


Spring Break Fun

by ChexLeMeneux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, Football Jock Dean, Freshman Castiel, High School, Naive Castiel, Nerdy Castiel, Senior Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:58:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14108922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChexLeMeneux/pseuds/ChexLeMeneux
Summary: Castiel, a naive freshmen, admires the varsity football player Dean Winchester. He admires his so much so that he ignores his instincts and follows him blindly.





	Spring Break Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, this is a story coming from a place of anger. It's spring break and I am not a happy camper. Sorry.

It’s time for Castiel to head home from the football game, home from school which still holds sporting events, even though they are 3 days into spring break. His favorite player, number 32, scored several touchdowns. Dean Winchester, varsity quarterback. 

Castiel is only a freshmen, Dean a senior, but the lovely quarterback treats everyone of every grade equally. The guy has a 3.6 gpa, a wonderful reputation among administrators and school staff, he’s a freckle-faced angel. But Castiel watches from afar, a lowly little nerd in comparison to the likes of that six feet tall, broad-shouldered young man. 

Castiel is never gonna tell _anyone_ , but Dean is his idol! Dean’s got the perfect body, he’s everything a girl would want, but Castiel...only gay girls notice him. But if he were anything like Dean, he would rule the school and get all the chicks.

He was walking down from the bleachers now, getting lost in the crowd of fans, parents, and students. It was chilly tonight, the adrenal of all those wonderful, athletic football players...that had kept him warm for a time. The football field was right next to the boys locker room, the light was dim as he walked, feeling the rush of wind from football players running by him. 

“Hey, Cas!” a familiar, gravelly voice say. He turns around. “How’d you like the game?” Dean asks, breathing heavily and smiling that alluring, provocative smile.

“Um, I, uhhh...good.” he says, stumbling over his words. Dean’s smile wavers a bit, seeming a bit shocked.

“I take it football isn’t your game,” Dean says, folding his arms a bit. Castiel’s back is flat to the wall, with Dean keeping him there a bit. 

“No, I mean yes. I just...you were great.” he says, smiling nervously. “I guess I’m just surprised you know my name,” he says, avoiding eye contact. 

“Of course I do,” Dean says, tilting Castiel’s back by his chin. “we’re in Year Book together.” he says, laughing. 

“Oh, right. I should get home,” he says, seeing that they are alone in the hallway now. Dean rests an arm on the wall above Castiel’s head, Castiel is only 5’4”, it’s not hard for most guys to tower over him. 

“I drive, I’d be happy to take you home, Cas.” Dean says, smiling that same, wolfy little smile. He shouldn’t stray from his regular routine...but this guy is so cool. 

“Sure, thank you.” he says, hesitantly taking Dean’s offered hand. 

<><><><><><>

Dean’s Impala is his baby, but right now this slender little freshman is the apple of his eye. He will never tell anyone, but he’s always had a thing for newbies. Those young ones, fresh from middle school, still basically just a kid but soon, he’ll make Cas into a man. 

He was never fond of the whole Year Book hullabaloo, but at the beginning of the school year, he saw that little virgin freshman signing up to take pictures and interview students for the year book, so he _had_ to join. 

Now, sitting beside him as he drive slowly, enjoying the vibration and the hum of the engine, was Castiel. The boy was barely above 5 feet tall, maybe, _maybe_ , about 110 pounds. Those slender, pale thighs, in shorts that are far too short for such a young twink--

“When did you first start playing football?” Castiel asks softly from the passenger seat, curious sapphire eyes, so innocent. 

“I’ve been playing since I was in elementary school,” he says, chuckling. “I don’t know why, but tackling guys and making those sweet touchdowns...it makes me happy.” he says with a bit of wonder in his voice. 

“Cool, Dean. I really want to play sports someday--oh, turn left here.” Castiel says, pointing to Cherry Street. Castiel directs him to a white house with blue shutters, the color interestingly matches his eyes. No one appears to be home.

“Do you want me to walk you in, make sure everything’s gravy?” he offers, hoping against hope that’ll say yes. 

“Um, I-I don't know. My parents don’t want strangers in the house,” Castiel says, seeming very nervous suddenly. 

“Well, I’m not a stranger. We’re friends, dude.” he says and Castiel’s face lights up, nodding slowly in agreement. 

<><><><><><>

Castiel knew that he was breaking the rules, friends and strangers alike, neither are allowed in the house without asking first. But Dean was so nice, he just wanted to check the house to make sure everything was okay. Castiel grabbed a ginger ale from the pantry, closing the door to find--

“Hey, little dude.” Dean says, causing him to drop his soda. 

“Goodness! You scared me,” he says and Dean laughs a bit, kneeling to pick up the can of Seagrams. Dean looks up at him, green eyes so vibrant. Dean rests a large, warm hand on his thigh, rubbing up slowly as he rises to his feet...getting closer and closer to his private area. He’s breathing heavier, feeling so excited and scared. 

“How do you feel about this?” Dean asks huskily, breath wafting on his face. “Do you want me to touch you?” he whispers and he can’t answer, he just nods jerkily. Dean gently gropes his crotch, causing Castiel to gasp. Heat rushes to his dick, making him swell in his shorts, causing it to bulge. 

“C-Can we go sit down?” he asks quietly, feeling breathless. Dean smiles that same grin, picking him up bridal style and carrying him to the living room. He sits in Dean’s lap, feeling something hard rubbing against him butt. He wiggles a bit to get comfortable, causing Dean to moan deeply. 

“Do you want to see?” he asks softly, licking his full, pink lips. He nods quickly, straddling his hips, unbuckling his pants. He can see the big outline through the blue, Fruit of the Loom underwear. He doesn’t want to touch it, he’s only ever touched his own, but Dean grabs his small hand, pulling it to rub over the underwear. 

<><><><><><>

Dean can tell that the younger boy is a bit uncomfortable, but he couldn’t care less. He feels like he might burst any second. He can’t take it anymore, shoving Castiel’s hand into his underwear, groaning when that somewhat chilly hand grabs his hot, hard cock. 

“Oh, fuck. Cas, can I kiss you?” he asks, licking his lips. Castiel nods slowly and he doesn’t waste time, using his free hand to grab Cas by the back of his neck, pulling his head down; pressing their lips together. Castiel is stiff, seeming unsure of what to do. He rubs his tongue along Castiel’s lips, trying to slip it into his mouth. He grabs Castiel’s crotch, kneading and gripping, but getting no physical reaction. He takes it a step further, sticking his own hand into Castiel’s shorts, now stroking the flaccid member. Castiel’s seems to get the gist, mimicking his movements. 

After awhile, they’re both moaning into each other’s mouths, tongue-fucking each other’s mouths. Sliding his hand back further, he circles Castiel’s hole--the boy yelps; lurching forward. 

“Dean, w-what do you think you’re doing?” Castiel questions, a traces of shyness gone. 

“Just exploring, that’s all.” he says, smiling and pecking him on the lips. 

“I don’t know...I’ve never touched myself there, why should you?” Castiel questions, head cocked to the side. 

“Because, babe. I’ll make you feel good, like I do _here_.” he says, gripping Castiel’s hard little prick, stroking. 

“Mmm, aah, god. O-okay, fine.” Castiel submits, eyes closed, nibbling on his lower lip. Smirking, he reaches into the pocket of his lettermen jacket, pulling out a small bottle of lube. 

“Can you take your shorts off for me?” he asks gently and Castiel obeys anxiously, practically ripping them off. He guides Castiel to lie back on the couch, opening his pale little thighs. Popping open the lube, he squirts a gob directly on the boy’s tight pucker, causing him to jump a bit. He runs a fingers through it, spreading it onto his prick, but Castiel is still squirming; earning a scowl from Dean. 

“Sorry, it’s cold.” Castiel says, shrugging. Rolling his eyes, he stroke Castiel with a lubed-up hand, causing the boy to buck into his palm and shake. With his free hand, he circles that tight, pink pucker--plunging his finger knuckle-deep. 

“Oh, god! Ow, Dean.” Castiel whimpers loudly, but he keeps his legs open. Kissing his thigh in apology, he keeps fingers and stroking. In minutes, Castiel is a squirming, moaning mess; can’t seem to keep still. Taking a chance, he adds another finger; feeling the tight ring of muscle contract around him. Castlel is lost in pleasure, hardly noticing as he gets his prostate massaged. With a high-pitch squeal, Castiel cums. He ceases stroking the spent dick, preferring to add a third finger; to which Castiel replies--

“Ow, it hurts again, Dean. I-I feel like that’s enough,” he says in a whiny, childish voice. Time for a little manipulation.

“Well, you’ve had your fun. But what about me, Cas? I didn’t get to have much fun at all,” Dean says, pouting. 

“Um, okay. I’m sorry, I was being selfish. If I let you have your fun...will you promise to make it...feel good?” Castiel asks squeamishly, very uncertain. 

“I promise, Cas.” he says, smiling reassuringly. Placing himself between Castiel’s slender thighs, he grabs his own cock, smearing it with lube. Pressing the blunt head against Castiel’s hole, he starts pushing. Castiel grabs Dean’s shoulders, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps pushing, forcing his cock in until--

“Fuck,” Dean moans deeply, thrusting hard. 

“Ouch! I-I don’t like it, Dean. Take it out,” Castiel cries, blue eyes glistening with clear tears. He is _so sick_ to _death_ of this boy’s fucking whining, so on impulse, he covers the little brat’s mouth. 

“Fucking shut up, you slut!” he shouts, ignoring the muffled cries of the little freshman. He fucks into his tight ass hard, gripping the pale hip hard enough to bruise him, hopefully. Castiel fights him, scratching his hand until he let’s go. 

“I couldn’t breathe,” he gasps out, sucking in a breath. Snarling, he backhands the boy, looking at those wide blue eyes; so full of shock. 

“I. Don’t. Care!” he yells, grabbing Castiel’s little legs; pinning his knees to his chest, practically folding him in half. He shoves his cock back inside that tight hole, hearing him scream as he thrusts balls deep into that hole, loving that wet squelching sounds as he rams him; the sound of skin slapping skin. To add insult to injury, he covers his mouth and nose, smiling as those pretty tears scream down his red face. As Castiel tries to fight, he clenches tighter around Dean’s big cock, and he can feel his climax near. Castiel’s eyes are wide, unblinking--

“Uhn, fuck. Mmm,” Dean moans, panting over top of the limp body beneath him. Spilling his cum deep into the boy, he eventually pulls out, hearing a wet pop as he does. He let’s go of the Castiel’s legs, but the boy doesn’t move. He isn’t breathing. 

“C-Cas? Wake up, man.” he says, shaking his shoulders, attempting to rouse him. Surely he’s just passed out. 

“Cas? Cas? Castiel?!” he shouts, slapping his cheek. Nothing. Panicking, he grabs his stuff, heading for the door. He takes one last look at the boy, splay legged, cum leaking from his loose and red hole, blue eyes wide and sightless. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd rather not explain why I'm in a bit of a dark place, but last week was one of the worst weeks of my young life, so this story is just be venting angrily. Sowwy.


End file.
